And the Dark of Night is Closing in on You
by Anath Tsurugi
Summary: Even though Kanan couldn't see her face, he could picture the look of amazed skepticism on it, could hear it in the way she noisily set her armful of supplies on the small counter. "Really? Cookies? We're half-stranded on a frozen wasteland on the verge of Wild Space with the Empire maybe not far behind...and you're going to make cookies?"


(A/N) Behold, my fellow fans, for I have written fluff! That almost never happens. Angst usually manages to work its way into my writing in some fashion or other, but I...I just wrote something happy. It's crazy. I suppose it's almost tempting fate in a way, putting the words 'holiday' and 'Star Wars' together in a single sentence, but if I'm honest, that's basically what I was going for with this – the feeling of being together with family for the holidays. So even though it's a little late, I still hope you enjoy my little bit of fluff.

 **And the Dark of Night is Closing in on You**

"What do you _mean_ you can't get the couplings rejoined?"

Chopper's shrill answer was difficult even for Hera to pick out from amongst the shrieking winds that were sounding at the other end of the comlink. She hadn't made much note of the planet's name before they'd made their emergency landing. All she could recall was that it was in a state of perpetual winter, and the only thing that had really mattered to them at the time was that there was no Imperial presence. That had been desperately needed after the colossal kriff-up that had been their latest mission.

"Don't get cute with me, Chop. We may need to get out of here quick. Why aren't they responding?" Hera pressed as she paced the entry corridor.

The warble that came through the comm was distinctly sarcastic in tone, even by the astromech's standards. Hera sighed as she gripped the comlink a little tighter.

"Yes, I'm aware it's colder than the Emperor's pasty backside out there, else I'd be out in it with you."

The whistle this time was a bit more urgent, drawing an even longer sigh from the Twi'lek as she rubbed at her temples in frustration.

"No. No, Chop, I get it. Just- keep trying," she pleaded softly, cutting the communication when she looked up to see Kanan entering the corridor.

Even with the visible tension in his shoulders and the palpable tightness in the rest of his countenance, the blind knight attempted one of his old joking, cavalier smiles for her.

"Y'know, it's of interest to me how he would _know_ how cold the Emperor's pasty backside is," he said as he approached her.

"Chopper's memory banks run farther and deeper than even _I_ care to know," she returned. "Maybe he really _does_ have firsthand knowledge on that one."

"Yeah, that's a bit more candor than I need from _Chopper_ of all beings," he said. When he pulled her into his arms for a tender embrace, she didn't ask any questions. She just leaned into his hold, resting her forehead against his as they twined silently together.

"How's Alex holding up?"

"As well as can be expected...so not so well," he answered with a shudder. "I'm about an inch from taking Ezra up on his offer to lock the man in the hold."

The latest mission had been planned based on intel from the ex-ISB agent, and when he'd heard the Spectres had volunteered for the supply raid, he had opted to join them. They had gotten what they went in for, but not without cost.

Zeb had been injured in the escape. Taking a shot that had been meant for Kallus, no less. The man had been near tearing his hair out with worry when Hera had left them to check on Chopper.

"We got Zeb patched up. He's under right now. It should serve until we get back to Yavin. That is...assuming we'll be getting back to base anytime soon?" he suggested, tilting his head questioningly to the side.

"Not sure yet. We really took a beating during that last stretch. I barely managed to avoid crashing into this iceball before. Any attempt at hyperspace in these conditions is little better than suicide. I _want_ to give Chop a hand out there, but the temperature's not likely to rise enough for us sticky organics to venture out into it. Not until morning, at least. Looks like we're on our own," she said, sighing in frustration as she pulled back from the human.

"Heh, just like the good old days," Kanan said with a small chuckle. "Well, there's nothing else we can do for the big guy right now. Sabine's checking out our haul right now. We can always help her out with that."

"Sure," Hera agreed with another sigh as she moved to walk beside him. "It'd be good to know this whole fiasco wasn't for nothing."

XxX

"Well, I figured out why Colonel Fancy Pants was so intent on getting this shipment back," Sabine called out to the two elder Spectres as they entered the bay. Reaching into one of the crates, she came up with a bottle of what looked to be a very expensive vintage of Alderaanian wine. "Private shipment. A few bottles of this wine, some brandies, Chandrilan cream liqueur, plus a couple other kitchen comforts. No trace of this crate in any of the manifests. Looks like we made off with an Imperial officer's box of contraband."

"Ha! Guess we'll be living large while we're stranded," Kanan laughed.

"And just how large do you plan on living, love?" Hera asked, raising an eyebrow at the Jedi. Whether he could see the gesture or not, she had no doubt it was plain enough in her voice.

"Just a glass or two," he said, raising a hand defensively. "You know I haven't gone on a bender in ages, but it's been a rough day."

Hera shook her head. "All right, but only because it's an unexpected bonus. Sabine, is there anything down there for Ezra?"

The young Mandalorian raised an eyebrow of her own up at Hera. "Seriously? You're still sticking to the Lothal drinking age thing? That's so backwards."

"You know how I feel about it. I'm only trying to do what his own parents would've done. It doesn't matter if I agree with Lothal's traditions or not. I _certainly_ don't agree with Mandalorian ideas about alcohol, but I also didn't deny you your right when you were old enough," she reminded the younger woman.

Sabine shrugged as she turned her focus back to the crate. "Got me there. Aside from the alcohol, looks like we've got...some semolina, a few thermals of milk, might be some butter in this other one, basic set of kitchen spices. I- have no idea what these little containers are. Meiloorun extract?"

"Sounds like our friend the colonel is a bit of a cooking enthusiast," Hera said quietly as Sabine continued to list off the crate's contents.

"Right? We can probably make pretty good use of this stuff," Kanan commented, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth

"What we _should_ do is turn it over to the kitchens back on Yavin," Hera pointed out.

"You know there's not enough in a single crate for that to be any more than an empty gesture," he returned. "We may as well use it ourselves. If it's..."

When Kanan's voice broke off suddenly, Hera nearly asked him what the problem was, but then she saw the way his countenance shifted into something that bordered on excitement.

"Hey, Sabine?" he called down. "Are there any chira chips in that crate?"

"Matter of fact, there are," she answered. "You have a plan?"

"I just might."

XxX

Back before Malachor – before he'd lost his sight – Kanan had actually done a lot of cooking.

It was an odd little skill he'd picked up in his travels, but useful nonetheless. After the austerity of the Jedi path, his inexperienced palate had quickly become enchanted with the many different flavors the galaxy had to offer. So he'd soon learned to make many of those dishes himself. It had certainly been useful whenever he'd wound up with work as a cook.

But, after Maul, he hadn't really attempted to relearn his way around a kitchen. With everything else happening in the development of the larger rebellion and relearning how to fight, it just hadn't been a priority.

But now he had an idea, and he could only hope that his skills were up to the task.

"So what is it you're thinking?" Hera asked him as she helped carry the necessary supplies into the _Ghost_ 's small galley.

"I'm thinking I'm gonna make some achira cookies."

Even though he couldn't see her face, he could picture the look of amazed skepticism on it, could hear it in the way she noisily set her armful of supplies on the small counter.

"Really? Cookies? We're half-stranded on a frozen wasteland on the verge of Wild Space with the Empire _maybe_ not far behind...and you're going to make cookies?"

"Why not? There's nothing else we can do until morning and once we're out of here, it's straight back to the Rebellion. Can you think of something _better_ to do with the time?" he pointed out.

As the Twi'lek moved through a long-suffering sigh, the sound gradually morphed into a small laugh. When she leaned into his space, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "When you're right, you're right."

Kanan gasped in mock amazement. "The great Hera Syndulla concedes defeat? Where's a holocapture? We need to record this moment for posterity."

"Don't push your luck, flyboy," she scolded him with another teasing peck. "I was considering helping you, but for that one, I may just leave you to drown."

"Oh, captain, my captain," he teased back, nuzzling into her. "Have pity on your knight. With the Force as my ally, I can cut down fields of enemies, but measuring out milk? That's just too much to ask, even with the Force."

"We'll muddle through it somehow, o fearless Jedi," she returned, keeping an arm around him while he relearned where everything was in the galley. Slow as the going was, he tried to only ask for help when it was absolutely necessary, getting Hera's layperson opinion on pinches of this and dashes of that – things he couldn't fully grasp without sight or through the Force.

It was a hard reminder of how far off he sometimes still was from what he'd been before Malachor, but at the same time, stranded with an uncertain future, there was no other way he'd rather spend the time – muddling around the galley with the woman he loved, trying to make something nice for the odd little family they'd gathered to them.

XxX

 _"They're escaping!"_

 _"It's him! The traitor-"_

 _"Stop them!"_

 _"ALEX!"_

 _The time it takes him to turn is slow._

 _Much too slow._

 _He comes about just in time to see Zeb leap directly into the path of blaster fire._

 _He sees it happening, and he's too slow to do anything except cry out the fool Lasat's name as he goes down._

 _He sees the pain on his lover's face...sees the plasma burn in his side..._

 _The rest is lost in rage as he guns down their pursuers._

Kallus cringed, resisting the urge to cry out as he pulled himself back from the shock of memory. After all, what right did _he_ have to be displaying pain or anguish?

 _He_ wasn't the one who was hurt.

"You _fool_ ," he growled quietly as he looked down at his former enemy, lying still as death in the _Ghost_ 's tiny infirmary. "You're _always_ such a fool."

Ezra had left some time ago to assist with- whatever else was going on on the ship. Kallus knew he should be lending a hand as well, doing everything in his power to get them back to Yavin as soon as possible, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to leave Zeb's side – and much though he was berating himself for it, he was grateful that no one had asked him to.

He wasn't sure _why_ he was acting this way. Under most circumstances, he was able to compartmentalize, to separate his personal feelings from the necessity of the moment. But now...

...now he couldn't seem to forget the fact that Zeb had only been in a position to _have_ to take a blaster bolt meant for him because of information _he'd_ provided. The ex-Imperial felt something in his chest clench painfully as he reached a hand out to the Lasat, gently twining his five fingers together with his four.

 _I'm sorry...I'm_ _ **so sorry.**_

Guilt and desperation chased endlessly through his thoughts as he ran a thumb along the fur on the back of Zeb's hand, leaving him uncertain if he was trying to reach the former guardsman or merely trying to calm him _self_. Whatever conclusion he might've come to, though, was derailed when he heard a throaty groan from his lover. Gaze darting to Zeb's face, he was just in time to see him blink awake.

"Could you not brood so loud up there?" he asked. His expression still contained pain, but the corners of his wide mouth were turning upward in a teasing smile. "Some of us are still recoverin'."

Despite the relief that broke over him in a sweet wave, Kallus couldn't entirely help seething, just a little bit. He was good at seething.

"Garazeb Orrelios, if you hadn't been _shot_ today, I'd put you in a bacta tank myself," he snarled, feeling his eyes start to burn as he half-smiled at the Lasat.

"Yeah, and I'll be right back on my feet again after. I've been hit before," he said with a wince. "So you can shove those guilty thoughts right off."

"I-"

"Alex, I don't need the Force to hear that 'this is my fault' goin' 'round your head. You have this thing you do where you take blame, even if it's not due," he said, gripping Kallus' hand tightly in his. "It's a war. This stuff happens. Besides, I'm a Lasat. You know it's gonna take more'n a blaster bolt to take me out."

The ex-ISB agent nodded, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he returned the grip.

"I- yes. I'm aware. That doesn't mean you need to go tempting fate," he scolded. "I promise you, my ex-Imperial arse isn't worth that."

Zeb raised an eyebrow at this. "Pretty sure that's _my_ decision to make. That'n everythin' else," he said with a pointed look, letting Kallus know that it wasn't only the choice he'd made today that he was referring to. "Now are you gonna come down here and kiss me or are you gonna make _me_ do all the work?"

Shaking his head as he blinked the threatening tears away, he whispered, "You're an absolute fool. Did you know that?" before leaning down over the Lasat and pressing his lips against his. With the intimate immediacy of the kiss, he was able to express without words each of the emotions he'd experienced since he'd watched Zeb leap to protect him – shock, terror, blinding rage, guilt, crushing despair, crippling relief and, throughout it all, the thread that connected each one...

Love.

 _I love you._

 _Stars forgive me, but I love you._

Zeb smiled up at him when they separated, letting him know that, in his way, he'd understood everything Kallus had tried to tell him. There was an answering flicker in those luminous green eyes, a small moment of love returned, but almost as quickly, the Lasat's expression shifted to his typical wry smirk.

"So what's our situation lookin' like?"

"Took a pretty nasty beating during the escape. We weren't able to remain in hyperspace. The system we were able to scrounge up has no Imperial presence, almost no life present at _all_. It..."

"What?" Zeb pressed when Kallus didn't continue.

"It's an ice planet," he admitted with a small chuckle, only just then realizing the irony in it.

"You're not serious?"

"Perfectly."

"Heh, how d'you like that? What is it with the pair of us and ice planets?"

"I couldn't tell you. Neither could I tell you the system's name. Hera barely managed to get us landed in the night hemisphere. The temperature's been much too cold for her to assist Chopper with any of the repairs, so we've had not much to do but wait in the interim. Although..." he started in as he tilted his head back, a strangely familiar scent beginning to catch at his nose, "I may or may not be succumbing to to madness, because I could almost swear I can smell achira cookies right now."

"Achira?"

Kallus raised an eyebrow as he glanced back toward Zeb. "Never seen those before? Granted, I don't know much about Lasat culinary arts, but I've not seen a world yet that didn't have some version of them. Cookies with chira chips in them?"

"Heh, cookies are kind of a new thing for me. We didn't have 'em on Lasan. Not the way I've seen Kanan make 'em, at least. That does sound like somethin' he made a few years back, though."

"Kanan bakes?" the ex-Imperial asked with yet another raised eyebrow.

"Well, somebody has to, don't they?"

"I suppose," Kallus conceded with a small laugh. "It's just not something one thinks of when engaged in combat with a Jedi knight. If that's his work now, though...I would say he has _considerable_ skill in the kitchen," he said, sighing in contentment as he caught another whiff of whatever was cooking in the galley. That scent was almost like being five years old again – like being back in the kitchens with his mother and the other children and biting into a fresh-baked cookie, the chira melting on his tongue, both sweet and a little bitter.

"Careful there, Kal. I might start to get jealous," Zeb teased him. "Dunno how I'm supposed to compete with a kriffing Jedi."

Kallus gave an outright laugh at that one. "I don't know how it's managed to escape your notice, Garazeb, but there are a fair few things you can do for me that Kanan Jarrus could never hope to."

"Yeah, none of which I can do right now, so we may as well go see what the competition is," he said, making a valiant effort at sitting up before Kallus stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, no. None of that. I'll go. You're staying right here."

"Fine," Zeb grumped, even though he was still smirking. "But if you're gone longer than ten minutes, I'm sendin' a search party."

"Duly noted," he returned, dropping a kiss on the Lasat's forehead before making his way out of the tiny infirmary.

His first stop was the galley, which was deserted, but showed definite signs of having been worked over recently. Following the faint sounds of chatter, his next stop was the common area where, save for Chopper, the rest of the Spectres had gathered. The lights were only going at half power in order to conserve energy, but that almost seemed to _add_ to the inviting atmosphere rather than detract from it.

Kanan was seated at the table with a mug of something in hand while Hera gathered more mugs. With each one she brought to the table, Sabine would fill the small drinking vessel with a steaming ruby red liquid from a pitcher she was carrying. Ezra, meanwhile, was needling the young Mandalorian over whatever the drink was.

"Aw, c'mon, Sabine. What's one sip gonna hurt?"

"Believe me, Commander Bridger, I'd happily let you drink anything that wouldn't kill you, but I'm not the one you've got to convince."

"Hera?"

"Answer's still no, Ezra."

"But- Kanan?"

The knight shrugged before taking a sip of his own drink. "Personally, I think if you're old enough to command soldiers, you're old enough to have a drink, but I also know for a fact the only reason I'm still alive is that I know better than to cross Hera."

"Wiser words were never spoken," the Twi'lek said with a sage nod.

"Hey, Kallus," Kanan called out to him before nay of the others noticed his entrance. "Zeb's awake then?"

"Yes."

"One less thing to worry about," Hera said, her shoulders slumping minutely in relief."

"We were both- rather curious as to what was going on out here. Were you all...making _cookies?_ "

"Sure were," Kanan said, nodding down at the plate sitting on the table, piled high with said confections. "We were gonna bring you some if you didn't make an appearance."

"Heads up!" Ezra called out before lifting a cookie from the platter with the Force and sending it flying toward him. Thankfully, his reflexes were at least quick enough to snatch it before it beaned him in the face. The young Jedi laughed as he stared back at him with a look of surprise. "Aw. Is it bad that I kinda wanted to see you miss that one?"

Kallus shrugged, expression shifting into a wry slant. "Not entirely." Then he looked down at the sweet in his hand for a long moment before taking a hesitant bite of it.

And if the scent had been like that small visit home, the _taste_ – the taste was like actually seeing his mother again. It was like clinging to her skirts before she'd lift him into a warm hug. He didn't know how his mother or Kanan or anyone else managed it, but the cookie was wonderfully crispy around the edges while still being perfectly warm and gooey in the center. Even he, the trained espionage agent, couldn't entirely help the tiny moan that escaped his throat.

"Karabast. I _knew_ there was somethin' goin' on behind my back," Zeb's joking voice suddenly entered the space.

Kallus' enjoyment evaporated instantly when he turned to see the Lasat limping into the room, leaning heavily against the wall with a hand against his injured side.

"What are you doing up, you fool Lasat?" he scolded his lover as he moved in to help him over to the table, now a much shorter distance than the infirmary. "I _told_ you to stay put."

"You were takin' too long," Zeb said, hissing briefly in pain as he settled in next to Kanan.

"I'm _quite_ certain that was less than ten minutes," Kallus sniped, his gut a strange mix of amusement and worry as he sat down beside Zeb.

"Depends on who's countin', _ni alitha,_ " he rumbled softly, the Lasana endearment still sending a pleasant shiver down the ex-Imperial's spine even now, months after Zeb had first whispered it into his ear. "So what are we drinkin'?"

"Little something I whipped up," Sabine responded, sliding them both steaming mugs across the table. "Our little colonel had a private shipment in with the rest of the inventory. Hence the wine."

Kallus gave a small, bitter laugh as he lifted the mug. "Well, that would explain his...doggedness...in attempting to retain one little shipment."

"It's not really the same thing as Mandalorian mulled wine, but I did my best with what I had," she said by way of apology. "Seemed like a good thing to go with cookies on a freezing night like this."

"Y'know, for those of us who _can_ drink," Ezra griped.

"You know, you still haven't tried the drink I _did_ make for you," Kanan pointed out. "Took a lot of the chira chips to make that."

"Hot chira? Come on, Kanan. That's kid stuff."

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. You might find something you weren't expecting," Kanan told him before taking another sip of wine.

Ezra rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath before picking up his mug and taking an obliging drink. But the moment the liquid hit his tongue, his eyes widened, gaze darting between the mug and Kanan for several moments. When he spoke again, he clearly had to remind himself to lower the mug.

"This...it's..."

"They called that drinking chira on Gorse. Probably the only good thing about that over-baked rock."

"Karabast," was all Ezra could seem to mumble, eyes flickering closed in pleasure before taking another drink.

Kallus wasn't far behind when he finally took a sip of his own drink. The wine was hot and strong, the alcohol leaving a pleasant burn on his tongue with the mixture of sweet and savory spices. If _this_ was the best Sabine could do with what she had, he would be _very_ interested to know what she could do with what she needed.

Zeb gave his own pleased sigh with his first sip of the wine. "That's good stuff."

Kallus was half-inclined to turn the conversation back to the repairs on the ship, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. If there was anything new they needed to know, Hera would've told them. Instead, he cradled his warm mug between cold fingers and cuddled in very close against Zeb, encouraging the Lasat to lean on him, which he did while munching on a cookie.

He wasn't entirely cognizant of the conversation after that. He was vaguely aware of Ezra and Sabine animatedly telling some kind of story to the table, but he wasn't fully registering the actual details. All he could see was the two kids, smiling as they talked, Kanan and Hera, also smiling faintly as Hera rested her head on Kanan's shoulder.

Then there was Zeb – the familiar scent of him heavy and comforting in Alex's nose as he breathed it in with the scent of chira and wine. He could feel the warmth of the Lasat's fur against his cheek as they cuddled even closer together. The knowledge of his love beside him, warm and _alive_ , was like a life-giving blanket, like a shield against the cold and the dark. More than being Zeb's lover, more than being an attachment to him, he had somehow become a part of this – part of this strange little family that had formed from the ruin the Empire had wrought.

Not for the first time, he asked himself how it had happened. If he was even _worthy_ to be a part of their circle, but rather than let the thoughts eat at him as he usually did, he just laid his head on Zeb's shoulder, feeling a teary smile move to his face as Zeb rested his own head against his, their two large frames slotting perfectly together – as if they were _made_ to fit that way. For a moment, he wasn't even worried that the Empire might discover them, that they might not even make it off this rock alive. They were all here, together.

 _We're home._

XxX

Hera wasn't sure what it was that woke her up, but then she also wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep in the first place, so it was all one, really.

Glancing around the common room, she discovered that the other Spectres were just as fast asleep as she had been. She and Kanan were curled up together at one side of the table while Zeb and Alex were cuddled tightly together at the other. Sabine and Ezra had wound up on a cushion at the far side of the room, Sabine with her head resting against the wall and Ezra passed out with his head resting lightly on her shoulder.

The pilot knew she would probably do best to wake everyone and send them to their proper beds, but for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to disturb the scene. So, being careful not to wake Kanan as she disentangled herself from his embrace, she quietly gathered up the dishes from the table and carried them to the galley to get them into the wash unit. When she returned to the common area, it was with an armful of blankets.

She tucked the first blanket around Sabine and Ezra. Sabine blinked awake briefly, but it took little more than a hushed whisper from Hera to send her back to sleep, pulling Ezra a little more snugly against her.

With Zeb and Alex both being such big men, it took two blankets to cover their sleeping forms. Zeb remained passed out throughout, a heavy sleeper even when he wasn't injured. She tried her best with Alex, but he was the lightest sleeper she'd ever known; even lighter than her own father. His amber eyes slid open, peering curiously at her as she finished tucking the blanket around him, assessing in that ever-vigilant way of his.

"It's all right," Hera soothed him. " _He's_ all right. You're both all right. You can sleep."

For several moments, he looked at her with a question in his exhausted eyes. There were any number of things he could've asked her but, ultimately, the expression shifted into gratitude.

"Thank you," he whispered. "You- didn't have to do any of this."

"I know," she returned, taking a moment to stroke some of the loose hair out of his face, "but you're one of us. You're family now. Better get used to it." She didn't think about how impossible she would've found this moment as recently as a year ago. She'd ceased to think on that topic the moment she'd seen the way Zeb looked into the Coruscanti's eyes after Atollon.

Alex sighed deeply, some long-held tension easing from his body as he dropped back to sleep. Before Hera could turn back to Kanan, she heard the soft sound of Chopper's treads as he wheeled into the room. Patches of snow were still clinging to his metal exterior, but in one manipulator arm, he was carrying an extra blanket. Making a supreme effort to keep quiet, he gave her his report on the _Ghost_.

Hera laughed quietly as she knelt in front of him, pressing her forehead against his dome, in spite of how cold to the touch it still was.

"Thank you, Chop. You go ahead and get yourself charged up. I'll take it from here."

Chopper whirred quietly, inclining his body in Kanan's direction. When Hera looked back toward the slumbering knight, she couldn't help smiling at the sight.

"Yes, actually. That would be very much appreciated."

Tucking herself back in beside Kanan, she curled up securely with him before Chopper moved in with the blanket, tucking it around the two of them.

"What's the word?" Kanan asked her once the droid had trundled off. Somehow she wasn't all that surprised to find him awake.

"We're up and running again. We should be able to limp back to base in the morning. I think I'll let everyone get a decent night's sleep, though," she said, snuggling a little closer against his side. Slipping a hand up, she easily lifted the mask from his face and set it aside on the table.

"Good choice," he returned. Then, with a single hand and the careful assistance of the Force, he removed the headgear from her head, shifting it to rest beside his mask. Catching her before she could lay her head back down, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. She smiled easily into the kiss, the sweet taste of wine and chira lingering between them.

"Good call on your part, making cookies," she said once they'd separated, only to cuddle up close again. Kanan laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to her right lek before resting his head against hers.

"Well, a rebellion without cookies is a rebellion not much worth having."

"So wise, Master Jedi."

"Wasn't it? I'll go down in the annals of the Jedi as Kanan Jarrus, Maker of Cookies."

"There are worse things to go down in history for," Hera said, smiling softly as she let her eyes fall closed.

"No doubt," Kanan returned, yawning before he asked her, "And there's been no sign of the Empire?"

"None at all. Looks like we made a clean getaway. Hoth might be worth mentioning to High Command for the _next_ time we need to find a base."

"Which hopefully doesn't happen any time soon."

"Well, if it does, you can make cookies for the entire Alliance."

"Don't tempt me. I can easily see my way to retiring to an apron and a cooktop."

Hera gave a fairly long yawn of her own as she began to drift off again. "I'll keep that in mind...for when the fighting's over."

Hera wasn't completely certain she heard Kanan's last words before they'd both fallen asleep, but what seemed to linger, in her dreams and in her memory, were the words, "Doesn't matter to me...if the fighting's ever done or not. There's always gotta be somebody around to make cookies."

XxX


End file.
